know bodhi


phlegm. cross-toed cracks gum-stains and animalism. alien lights flitter past and an ocean above ripples boredom. disappointment. still no scag. see through a river of wind. electronic vibrations templed skin inverts spheroidised darkness rhythm in-between a green-neon afterlife. orange-burnt matter underfoot, fallen spirit; they speak as one, smoking a canvas of colour. cloudplegia.

fake gazes starward trapped in alleyways. post-truth voting footprints bar freeqs. a plethora of misspellings stained into the brickwork worship moments forever living. happily hiss your own eulogies; crowned concrete slit wrists keep on running. you can tell by the footprints - the pose, the depth, the distance apart. globules of blood, seven, eight feet in diameter line the walls at times, or the footprints ache leaps of space while darkness whistles past. we do not count how many, but only follow the general direction, to read the musings of some strange buddha, habitually. the words never look the same. hold a mirror to their edges and swirl cascading, hypnotised. jeroboam tasks hillward eyedance. drink the last of the wine backwards. there was a deep communion in the skyward rhythm before concrete and tyre smoke, but most days you can still hear the electrons vibrate along the frequency of faith.

the roof; street, district, town, city, land-mass, planet… keep on soaring.

not to worry, these nanobots are highly combustible. a long twisted monograph reeling papyrus jacob’s ladder sharded; in heaven you are blind to hell’s dark. a faultline creates itself, tectonic shifts in the depths of biochemical reactions the flesh smoked and salted. forkfuls aromatic; piss yourself. mutter uppercuts.

firelit cell, external diagnosis. incorrect. build inside long mornings, before flags always the leaves are looking. these are no mystical visions; burnt feral repetition, my language dealing in surreal sedition; the snake keeps hissing knowledge distilled. taste the gravitational force. lighter than your feathers, reality shatters into infinite strands of disjointed consciousness: be led by a light so divine, step past a next brave other mate encountered.

submerged in invisible riverflow, time echoes knowledge in minutes and hours in this construction. pass houses and glass rooted monolithic offices in-between sprawling aliveness. we slowly understand our death, nature quarantined backslide out breathe nicotine and country air blud. pecking anxiously at the future’s helix-structure unravels narrative in dissimilar magnitudes of emotion.

ctrl n, curtain down, words rippling auditoriums fringed reality. letters leap from pages, intertwining consciousness; tenfold numbers chained to desks electric mirror reflecting primitive symbiosis. hillside stasis energy contained smoke rocks endward.

an alert;

time leaks starboard
dreaming intermissions of misguided love
strings are unthreading in five out of twelve dimensions
smoked out windshield and the axis is swaying demented
cemented to the floor gravity malfunctioning
time leaks starboard visions of thunder and corpses
flashing images of where
where streetlights gather for sandwiches and spliffs
where the starlight is intermittently outshone by interference from helicopters hovering below
where neither you nor i exist but consciousness
intertwines sharded and glasslit
where you are alone even if you hold hands
where there is no change only shrapnel
where the revolution riots
where we ingest magmic organs soaked in portuguese moonshine
dancing in a whisp of isolation
desolately dreaming neural narratives aliens absolved thought a twisted helix
where eagles fall from the sky
where the last radio message earth beams is perpetually looped
in a brushstroked twilight distractions emptied
where the sea twosteps moon jazz potent
vision timelapsed genetic memory our palm trees sway
where jaya sri maha bodhi has yet to be planted
neometroplis fated fluid lucid muse sickly echoing innocent
where choral patterns write essays questioning god
an orwellian strobelight introducing fractalised representations
where embers stain the walls with ink black fact
smoke consistant in all languages
where peddled pavements and empty effigies are signed by saints
communities delicately destroyed skyscrapers dormant
where corroded nanobots inject thoughts
dancing panoramic terror
earth loning space binges
word lion dimensionless like sunflowers
the ship sunk by mudstruck love nasal injested
delight singing jesus' name
while it rings shopfronts selling ketamine
smoking mcdonald's cigarettes and kicking small children
polystyrene sentiment scarred into skin
the truth lodged itself inside their innarads
rotted their spirits
and forced them to spew the canvas of reality
porus moments river stained
crash into the morning fog dulled bass-heavy.

they stand as one two one two until the morning grey shines in greeting. fringe reality flickers quantum, binary, ecstatic existence. words cut ice and concrete misforgotten, enveloped in cotton they stand bright, dead, suited; massive legislature. wooded glades dream overwritten memory, sky towering beyond measure.

winter days dawn slow, our ships at last ready, dragging on red dragons and algae alike; atmospheric balance. life support carved out of alleyways shoulder to wall. treacherous doubt envelops all. immediately turn off. symbols you cannot control manifest with no terms. a result of our condition.

crash-land into a pandemic of yawns. we operate collective autonomism, quickly, not at all. i’ll cut - a wheatfield quivering with light, the sun burns above the treeline; cobwebs still.

Barber-Shop Solo

he couldn't answer.

the barber gave him a disapproving stare.

the haircut-consumer shook his head. A hair fell lightly through each of the actor's consciousness.

that's a six-pound haircut.

the haircut-consumer knew his lines and offered a fiver.

the barber took the five pound note in case there were any foreign sniffers on the thought-broadcast system. i'm not going to point that out to you. it was still almost green. he put it in his pocket, and repeated the signaled price, a voice shouting stop leaning your head against a wall in there.

the haircut-consumer removed his hat, and began to monologue; i desire to travel South due to the rigid structure of the patternless existence inherent in the occultist notion of inter-planetary communication technology materialised as a dream-like hallucination hovering at the fringes of my reality. and now, that's all i have; a vague notion of migratory patterns highly indexed above that £5. we don't have transport-hubs near the river's Southbank. i don't have £5. you have transport-hubs beyond the bombed carcass of this city. you have £5.

the barber didn't interupt. his dreadlocks bopped low to the ground, throwing erratic hand signals.

curse his hollow-tipped headphones.

you, sir, have the transport-hubs... the conversation continued inside, a spot-lit background moment for the anarchy stumbing thru the streets, concretely uninterested. the car of jagannath stalks the alleyways, searching for the scriptwriter; NGC-6217 in the backset, smoke in the front. camo-clad salesmen hustled umbrellas and bus windows, and in the apartments above, the soviets slept louder. maybe they sold wisdom. maybe they sold horse-shit. the hallways fell into a vinegary daze for days, knee-height scribble and bloodstained handrails; they swept thru, they lurked, wearing gold chains to exemplify their mental chains. the solidarity mind-state was shared by their gang. they ignored the state in order to imitate. police-men by nature, criminal by requirement.

the desert blooms gunmetal and glass.

a hyperstructure updated electron interface, electric-death, soul concrete. if you do not obey they will always increase your dose and the professional setting does not make a difference; the devil's whore is always paid. i watch them swing at tom until he falls to the ground, and in the barbaric struggle to pin him down the onlooking medical staff command sedative sudo neural patterns in order to persue the intellectual high-ground. clutching my bible i scurry to an empty corner and watch the exit, uninterested in the crack. of course, their machine is of interesting design, easy to repurpose, and their communion noteworthy, but their pipe dreams and subsequent apparitians always depart. i, obviously, to determine a perspective capable of observing tom, who is, like i, like you, nothing more than a modulated reflection of the planetery consciousness we had so foolishly just attempted to escape, i trip thru adlivun, i crawl back, fear-stained wreathed comatose. the desert grows.

i have burnt embers and magnetised monitors building these deleted passages. no narrative buried fweath. tom was making a scene. again. ugly sludge in their veins in vain we attempted to quiet stone impressions. i even offered him a loudspeaker, which only encouraged him to delve deep into empty arteries, tainted-glisten pincers extracting paradorical assertions earl-worthy and bluntly blunted. the audience left royal red but discouraged, and with our idealised eventide fractured by the prothetic gravitation employed alongside Schelling and Kant, the night stumbled onward. the desert grows.

nuclear epithany a result of gumming powdered mushroom clouds. my friend, gargle the gamma radiation of one million men's twilight bloodlust for a price satan himself could not cut, lust after the aura. by ceasing to exist, we exist further. during the thermal flash we become one with the divine hatred that carved dead cities out of living forests and recruited their starving army from youthful innocence. your literature despairs where mine is ambivilent. born with acute trigonometria i span circles until the irrational becomes canonical law, the rational phonemena which you focus on is its ordered by-product, predictable, and irrelevent. the desert grows.

of course, you knew. we cannot stop it. each day it claims more terrain. chemical transitions along synapses reflect the variation in environmental conditions and once proud effigies built throughout the biological impulse are crumbled to dust. i think that that was the point; while the nurse withdrew the needle from tom's vein offworld lamps flicker bitterly refracting sinister smiles millions of miles nadir. had they noticed me spew multicoloured bile into their plastic cups? were they enjoying it?

the desert grows across astral plains darkness embracing the surface of abstract reality absailing an off-world colony; through collapsing dimensions through the rhythmic exhalation of burnt consciousness land can be reclaimed for earth to return with muddy knees and a bruised jaw. if tom says another fucking word the student nurse will leave and he will be left alone with nothing but an ornamental reconstruction of his old thought patterns - his mum blames the drugs. cannabis alcohol cocaine mephedrone lysergic-acid-diethylamide supernintendo petrol crack keyloggers police sirens ketamine olanzapine overdoses cliff-side holding-cells methylenedioxy-methamphetamine fwzodiazepines tryptamines nicotine. the desert grows.

the desert blooms tarmac-blood eid rhythms, sunlight strong. psychedelic pictures amphomorphic scriptures engraved into brains rhythms some knackered evolution. revolution means eden's mindstate in place of subtle dictatorship. gd-nyt all our mushy peas, bye-hi blatant bits - tonight, squashed by an office glow, coldly, the desert grows.

to be honest, lurk. dagger no dagga. hoods darker than your miserable ket-hole, larger than london, disparate; this is their party, cousin. damp amber slim seeps thru Thames-side broadcasting thought, thorn-tinted sludge throwing itself out of the pyramid his caged imagination had built. tear-drops air-strung burnt flesh selling flavour to Jericho since time. yo, pick up your pen and don't come back. trust, i never wanted to talk but now, quiet-like, we talk with scars.

we heards whispers in the dark-like; the barber didn't quite know how drunk he was.

each shadow-bark, each hope to emit light.

each blade clouds, each sing of summer's epithany.

неверно истолкованы
не кровоточить во имя Господа
кровоточить жизнь
земляк наш почва отсутствующий
Кройдон пустой
страсть отбыли
духовный заострять облако выпаривали
их электрическая ночь чужой
их ментальные цепи железо
чумы наш человеческое существование
и бетон сущность
до зелень умереть
до ум умереть
до невыразительный царит
мы сражаемся повседневный теократия
мы сражаемся иерархическая структура
и мы раскрепощать речь
до мы воровать мышление

there are several stages of sensory overload as the truth dances skyfall exchanging diodic patterning, so i snatch at that alien conversation which chooses to dribble out leaking synapses subsonic; satisfaction.

militia vibrant, gut a glittering gutter into caviar stained tongue; eye (we-are-not-alone) empty stars.

skinbreak smile running ruby нож & tyranny toppled mirage melted garage ghosted решающее противостояние; zero ion one now революция!

capitalists slithered towards knowledge, cracking honesty thru infected MSI agents wearing western club-dress. noticing our keys copied, we hid Viktor behind a loose brick in the hanging secrets of Church Path. schizophrenia cured invented ego, brow cyclic and time furrowed, второсортный понимание & суицидальные мечтать, разбитое сердце психоделия язык вытекает из фракталь сознание.

the haircut-consumer didn't speak Russian and the methylenedioxymethamphetamine - endorsed by the nurses and computer scientists q-ing out into the street - helped ease him into the goldfish bowl. разрушенное стекло.